Month: July 2018

she leaps through the films like a frightened fawn
does she ever linger?
silent, she drifts through a black sludge pond
when will her body fester?
yesterday’s life, she was seen
today she only whispers.
she’s like a frog in a flood
drowning in who wrought her (for she is the water)
she gleams in the light of a new moon night
when all you get is darkness.
now you die
now you burn alive
to her sweet delight
you’ll burn through the night. 

Things I Don’t Say To You (ever continuous)

7/17/18

hello. i’m not sure either of us felt the weight of that statement. but since i’m walking, and walking into my mind, i feel it. when i said i’d never have cared about love or loving if not for you, i meant it. this isn’t to say that i didn’t know beautiful love before you. but i never knew as intense, as complex, as confusing and terrifying and devastating a love. because with you, love and obsession had merged to one feeling. i forgot love so completely that i had to relearn it again. and in relearning love and how to love, i found the purest and most beautiful state to exist in: to live for, from, and with love. 

i meant it. the credit is not undue. let it crush you and watch as you put yourself back together. feel the shame and unworthiness and smallness seep out and slide into the depths of the earth to burn up into nothingness. see just how you’ve transformed me. i’m sure i’m not alone in being touched by you. i will dedicate every moment spent with you to showing you the weight of your words, the transformative power of your actions, and the beauty of your heart. maybe we will not be forever. but you will forever be the catalyst to my purpose. 

well. i’m not done.

to me, you are all of the potential for good in the world, concentrated. you may read that as hyperbolic. it’s not. 

i realize that the force of my love for you can be suffocating. it’s usually contained in a starch white bin to hide how dark the contents are. but it’s burst up and out, and i’ve no control over it. i adore you and i cherish you and when i think of you my eyes blaze with passion and protection. i will not apologize for love; no negativity, no malice comes anywhere close to love, and those are the only things worthy of apology.

i’m not the best at caring about conventionality. i’m painfully aware of how it may be perceived, my dedication to you. it may be seen as not strong at all, a weakness overcompensating in grandeur, creating an image too big to fill. it may be seen as selfish, constructing a falsity to fill a hole within me. i know these perceptions because i’ve believed them at one point, too, terrified to face the truth of true and pure love. please know that i do see you. i see you when you’re small i see you when you’re big i see you when you’re broken and joyous and childish and wise. i also see you in another realm. in a place where nobody is preoccupied with such trivial things as perception or self-inhibition. where we live nourished only by the meat of our hearts, speak only by the roar of our thoughts. in this place, you soar. 

also

there’s no pressure to achieve greatness. you’ve got it effortlessly and you live it every second. how uncomfortable are you to feel love so pure? hold that to your ear, let it blast a hole through your eardrum, and then you will know how uncomfortable it makes me. we, together and apart, are radical. discomfort is radical. good night again

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7/17/18

are you afraid of me or afraid, thinking that you’ll have to forfeit other connections to have this one? are you afraid of yourself? do you think if you let love touch you, you’ll crumble? do you think that love is too pure for your soiled spirit? do you not feel worthy of your voice, of respect, of worship, of love and lust?

of all the people that i give to, you are the one i ask for the largest return. i don’t know why that is. maybe it’s because i’m selfish. maybe it’s because you have a pure heart, and i feel comfortable to. maybe it’s because i think you’re capable of it.

but you don’t want to face that. and that’s why you hang your hat on maybe, scared that if you look deeper, your answer will be no. but i think what you’re really scared of is that if you look even deeper, your answer is an infinite yes, and you don’t want to submit to the infinite yes. i think facing the surrender you’re capable of giving makes you cling to your reality and your tangibility, neither of which i’m a part of. i think we can work through this to share beauty and love. i am not sure if you want to work through it. i am not sure if i fault you for this. and i am so caught up in this simple matter that i overlook the many faults i bring to us. 

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7/21/18

convinced yourself that u don’t want to so u can sideline me and everything that we could be for something that’s easier and i think that u think that ur hesitancy to tell me no is because u think i would not take it well and would turn it back on u and say, well, everything that i’m saying now. but you’d have a shield up that would read as me being the one who’s deluding themselves. if u were to really face your no, would it not appear as i’ve said?

u’ve buried it and manipulated it to protect urself because ur scared to face urself and that’s what i ask u to do because i would give anything to face u but only u can do that and u deserve to be fully seen by yourself. emotional intimacy is relationship, all else is relations. it doesn’t matter where in the world we are. it doesn’t matter where we touch the earth. talk to me.

we are already what you’re scared for us to become.

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8/7/18

you can’t tell me that i’m the biggest and then make us small. you know what definition would bring? reality. and more love. and you’re scared of both because you’re so adverse to the feeling of being loved that you think having to face us would lead to repulsion. it’s a choice and i don’t know why you continue to not choose yourself. it’s also not fair to me. i deserve respect and love, too. i’ve given you my everything. i’m not here to guide you along to happiness as i sink further into solitude. please don’t do this to me, because you’d be doing it to yourself, too. i don’t know what else to say. this Is easy. it’s accepting that you’ve already let love in and that you’re better than you think you are and it’s amplifying the solidity of significance and. i don’t know. i know you’re going through big things. but this isn’t a big thing. it’s already happened. and i can’t keep watching you fall for other people and push me away because that’s how you think it has to be and later enter back into intimacy. i need you to look at this. we’re better than this. 

9/2/18

i don’t talk about you nearly as much as i think of you. i dont talk about you to anyone who i haven’t already shared my soul with, bared it to. if they don’t respect me and my time and my energy and my Heart, why would i ever share then the person who is unholdable and who yet who i hold dearest? you know but you don’t know how your presence shocks the world. how it enraptures everyone you meet, regardless of admittance and acceptance. maybe you do. maybe you also know how damaging this is for you, how it yanks your sense of self down brick by brick to hand out to passing admirers. the forces of your underdeveloped ego and their overdeveloped attachment, obsession, enamorment— however you want to label it— with you balance each other. and you have to physically take hold of this imbalance and set it proper, because you could very well go on with it crooked. it’s working and it’s flowing and it’s what keeps you. you’ve said it yourself. it fills in where your ego is lacking, and/but it covers and muffles your uncomfortability. so you have to force your awareness and force detachment to analyze how this is going to affect you and how far you’re willing to go with pain and the externalization of ego and internalization of judgements. it’s going to eat at you and eat at you until there’s nothing left. you’re too. everything. you’re too wonderful and loud and kind and insightful and curious and erratic to just go away quietly bit by bit, so i know you don’t plan to. but don’t let your cockiness go too far for too long. there’ll come a point where you’re too far sunk to rise 

10/8/18

i didn’t ask if you were frustrated so that i could stop bringing it up. i asked so i’d know how you feel. because i never do. i’m still going to bring it up because i’m just. i don’t let emotional things go like you don’t let slights you’ve done against your family go. i’m still going to bring it up i will just do it differently and less frequently and in a less confrontational way because now i know how you feel about it. if you had said neutral i would’ve continued as usual. i don’t get. i just don’t understand why you said that. 

dude did you forget that above all this other shit, i’m loving you? if you don’t want to be loved by me, that’s nothing against either of us. it’s just truth and i need to hear truth

i can feel it happening to me. 

as i raked the yard this evening, i saw my life. the simplicity of a life for the land. tending it, nourishing it. healing it in my small little way. my dreams of camaraderie, of universal union, of transcendent and widespread love—dreams that have been fuzzy since conception— are slipping, smudging a bit more every day. 

so i see it. 

abandon them. live adjacent. how broken, how horribly sad. 

i swore i’d be different. but then, i guess a lot of us think that, right? 

this isn’t wisdom. it’s hopelessness. 

with a quiet devastation and mild hesitation, i’ll reduce myself to what we all eventually reduce ourselves to be. 

i feel the breeze on my shoulders and my back. it’s also selfishness. how selfish, to want to feel this peaceful and beautiful forever. because if i did commit myself to change, to macro healing, i would not get to feel this. simple and silent. we aren’t inherently selfish, obviously, you know this. we know this. but we’re simple. and who wants to submit to a life of tyranny? a short, hectic life, and likely for no lasting effect.  

feel the fly scurry over my thigh, look at the work i’ve done, watch the wasp zip by. the birds, they glide, and the palm trees shimmer in the gentle breeze and quiet sunlight of early evening. oh this is what they mean by the glory of summer. it tricks your mind. the pool is a pot. you, glowing, sink absentmindedly to simmer in summer. 

i must clarify why i’ve shifted. why the rush of my words has slowed to a mellow predictability. no more allusions or illusions. there are only so many textiles to compare your touch to and only so many celestial bodies to project my consciousness onto. i guess now, the only beauty to me is true originality, to speak with the force of a unique perspective. no more that’s conscious of the male gaze, no more from one dulling her brilliance with a dusting of what’s just been done. clear and concise and decisive, divisive. there’s no more time for mucking around; who knows how long i’ve got left to speak? write.

more fiction from the front lines (please thank the hollies)

hello my sweet witch of evenings past
your spirit haunts me in my dreams
no sweet caress, no looks, no smile, no words
could heal the burn of what i believe
seeing them love you
i am careless, cold and wired. i’m sorry for pain that’s come to pass.
my only hope is love’s transpired
guilt has ravaged me and i turn to you to seek your peace; darling, are you at peace?

summertime i close my eyes before you can leave
know i love you
i know tears flood a heart that’s bereaved
know i love you
i don’t have any air left to breathe
know i love you
if all you get is a moment to grieve
know i loved you

everyone loves the idea of you. let them love you.

this isn’t to invalidate the beautiful love between you. but how hard is it to love someone pretty? someone light and joyous and quick and fun and loving. your subconscious polished persona, usually reserved for situations of perceived danger, becomes your main persona when you’re inherently anxious, because your brain tells your body that you’re always in danger.

we all know in ourselves that where there’s brilliance, there’s somewhere else with darkness. we tend to forget that with other people. it’s easier to accumulate people when they’re two dimensional— there’s more space. but is that space dynamic? instead of clay or wood or plastic or metal figures you’ve got paper dolls. you grow bored much quicker, and everything loses meaning, from the interaction, to the person, to the concept of interpersonal connection at all. eventually, you forget how to interact with anything more complex, because you’ve shrunken your capacity to interact like a starved stomach. luckily, like that stomach, it can grow back to its normal size. but you have to work at it, and you have to be careful and you have to listen to yourself to know how far you can stretch. push yourself to grow grow grow but know when growth becomes over-exertion, undermining all of your progress and shaking your confidence.

we can’t love a lie, not truly. only the idea of it, which is not a relationship and not a connection. it’s a reflection of our ideals, and keeps us all stuck in complacency.

hey. the whole way, i’ll be here. to show you that someone who sees you for your perceived ugliness sees it outshined by your beauty. skin will always shine brighter than a plastic mask. remove it and you’ll glow in hues

this was an instagram caption but i will put it here and maybe rewrite it later

i can’t imagine the amount of dissonance that a self-aware parent experiences under capitalism. how can you teach your child the values of communication, cooperation, and sharing, because you know that’s what creates a good person, and then go out into a world that destroys anyone who practices them? how can you live knowing that sending them out into capitalism will confuse them in a way that either hardens them or breaks them? 

the sign of a good parent is one with a child who didn’t let go of those values, who, even if forced to submit to capitalism, remains a true and good intentioned spirit. and if you’re a beautiful soul who is either fighting capitalism and the degradation of humanity within it openly or internally, you were taught to love with strength and honesty. if a parent didn’t teach you this, some kind of authority in your life did. i learned the partly from my parents, partly from my sister, partly from my professors, and partly from the kind and beautiful people on the internet, who across the world are fighting to keep a hold on their empathy and passion. we need to respect respect respect and honor those people, and we need to be those people for young people. it’s never too early to be an influence of hope, kindness, and positivity.

my dad was in love with nature, and the forces which created it. a love that faded in turn with his heart. my uncle told me stories of dad chasing storms when they were young. and how one time, he walked, entranced, towards a tornado, before grandma hollered for him to get inside. i remember how he would sit, alone, on the patio, shielded from the pounding rain. how the more violent the storm, the more excited he became. looking back now, he was at peace, which he so rarely was. something in the electricity of it all recharged him.
he left a lot behind in his life. religion, softness, humor, compassion. some kind of quest to shed his beauty in preparation for his lengthy rot. i think he tried to leave this behind, too, but never quite could. i’m not sure his life was all he wanted it to be. a brilliant mind, ripped apart by his own fingers. purposeful destruction from rage, stress, poison, hatred. to know the power of his hatred, and to know that he hated himself most of all…